Review by Frank Plowright
What if Joe Sacco or Guy Delisle, to name two creators specialising in reportage, had to issue their comics anonymously for fear of state reprisals if lines were deemed to have been crossed? Welcome to I Won’t Pretend These Missiles Are Stars, produced by a group of Iranian comic creators of necessity concealing their identities behind the anonymity of the Cartoonist Collective credit.
Tragically, the subtitle referring to the twelve day war in Iran during 2025 has been superseded by events in 2026, with war still ongoing as this review goes live. The strips concern experiences of people during the joint Israeli and US bombing campaign of 2025, sold to the world as destroying Iran’s nuclear research capabilities. However, following an Israeli pattern used in Gaza and subsequently Lebanon, civilian buildings and hospitals were also targets. Amid all the news about leaders and military infrastructure the countless deaths of ordinary people became mere statistics. These are the stories of people who lived near enough places that were bombed and lived in fear that their home would be next.
While all fifteen experiences are personal and terrifying for anyone to have lived through, and there’s variety to the art, similarity affects many stories. Some contributors are lucky enough to be able to leave Iran’s capital city Tehran for more remote areas, while others have to remain, but all suffer from the country imposing an internet blackout. The more resonant stories, therefore, are those offering greater individuality. One concentrates on the effects on household pets while another obsesses over her deadlines as means of blotting events out. A tragically common factor is people actually thinking about the possible circumstances of their death.
Even behind anonymity, criticism of the Iranian regime and its appalling acts justified by interpretation of religious strictures is largely muted or in passing. One contributor’s sister believes state propaganda and causes family upset via doomsaying, and another provides the most explicit criticism detailing the failings of the state in protecting people while obsessing over women not wearing a headscarf. One powerfully considers whether the lack of rights is ingrained from childhood merely to perpetuate the state.
Moving away from the content, Iranian comic creators aren’t generally known to the wider world, yet there’s immense talent among the fifteen storytelllers over a variety of artistic styles. These range from realism to cartooning to symbolism. Some note working in animation, and while a couple are obviously less talented, as a showcase for what a country has to offer in terms of comic creation, this rates highly.
That, though, is secondary to the stories being told. In all wars demonisation occurs, and it’s easier to maintain that in broad strokes, with no separation of people from their regime, to define a country as an enemy, not the state apparatus. I Won’t Pretend These Missiles Are Stars gives the human side of the experience. Imagine it happening on that scale in Boston, Haifa or Newcastle.
